


Favor

by ScaryScarecrows



Series: Garage Tapes [6]
Category: Gotham City Garage (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Jason is technically a gang leader, Kara doesn't know what to make of him, Vagueness, aftermath of a not-yet-detailed incident, even if sometimes he doesn't act like one, more character exploration than plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 05:36:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17975444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScaryScarecrows/pseuds/ScaryScarecrows
Summary: “I can totally come back—” she starts, and he clicks his tongue.“Nah.” His head drops back down. “I. Owe you. A.” He frowns, holds up a finger. “A favor.”





	Favor

The next time Kara sets eyes on Jason Todd, the guy looks like crap. He’s sprawled in an expensive-looking chair like he’s been dropped into it, and he looks. Sort of. Sepia-toned, or something, like the color’s been sucked out of him. His hair’s matted to his forehead and it’s impossible to ignore the lines of bandages winding up his body, making his shirt look weird. Honestly, he doesn’t look like he should be up. Or, for that matter, that he even **can** be.

A closer look solves that mystery; Jason’s pupils are blown wide, black almost swallowing the blue.

His office is crowded. There’s the man who brought her here, the one with the beret-she thinks he must be second-in-command or something, he acts like it-and a man in white, and an older, bearded guy that reminds her, strangely, of Dad. She doesn’t like being the only girl in here, not by a long shot, but she’s pretty sure she can take them. And to be fair, none of them have **said** anything. Or **looked** at her. It’s just…old instincts die hard.

“You get ten minutes,” the man in the white jacket says. “And then out you go. I don’t like this. You need to be resting. In a bed.”

Jason grins, loose and sloppy, and tips his head back.

“M’not gonna die. You ssssaid.”

“Don’t push it.”

“I can totally come back—” she starts, and he clicks his tongue.

“Nah.” His head drops back down. “I. Owe you. A.” He frowns, holds up a finger. “A favor.”

What.

“Huh?”

“Mm-hm.” He taps his fingers roughly against his desk. “It might’a been. Veeeerrrry dumb, but you still saved my ass.”

Yeah, because she’s not a monster. Jeeze. Why does that warrant a favor? (And does she even want the favor?)

“Yeah, you would have done the same for me, right?” She tries a smile. Nobody returns it. “You’re welcome, I guess, but you look kind of like death, so…”

Jason laughs, shaky, hand going to his stomach to brace it.

“S’that so.” He leans back in his chair and claws at his bangs. “Didn’t think I looked that bad.”

Beret-man facepalms and mutters, “Oh, my God.”

Huh?

It doesn’t matter. Jason shifts, face wrinkling in pain, and opens a drawer. Kara’s kind of expecting money, maybe, like, a golden whistle to summon him. Or something. Shut up. What he pulls out instead is a simple, white card with metallic purple letters running across it.

“You show that.” He shuts the drawer with a bitten-off whine and goes limp again, looking up at her through half-closed eyelids. “To the right people, and it’ll getcha things you couldn’t even dream for.”

A business card? There’s no number, not even a name, or some sort of helpful picture. Just the purple letters reading, _What are you looking for?_

They’re snide, somehow, and the card itself feels ridiculously expensive. Kara suddenly wants to give it back.

“What do you mean, the right people?”

He grins again, sharper than before.

“You’ll know ‘em when you see ‘em.” He pulls his eyes open the rest of the way. “You can go now.”

“But—”

The bearded man takes her elbow and murmurs, “C’mon. Mark’ll have your head, it’s not worth it.”

White Jacket bristles, but she sees him settle for sticking his tongue out when Beard’s back is turned. Huh.

She shoves the card in her inner jacket pocket, just in case, and follows Beard outside and towards her bike. It doesn’t look like anyone’s mucked with it, but she gives it the best look she can without disassembling it.

“We wouldn’t,” Beard says. “Want me to go get a scanner?”

“No, no thanks. I just…”

“Habit?”

“Yeah.”

“Good habit.” He rolls his shoulders and shifts his weight off his left leg. “You gonna be okay, kid? You need water or anything?”

“I’m okay. Do you anything about the, uh, the card? Like…people? What people?”

A tumbleweed blows by behind him. Beard sighs and rubs the back of his head.

“Use it wisely,” he says gruffly. “That’s all. Drive safe, kiddo. Try not to be out after sundown.”

And then he’s leaving, heading back towards one of the air-conditioned buildings, and she’s alone in the sun.

Huh.

She makes sure the card’s secure, puts her helmet on, and starts her bike. If she never has to come back here, she’ll die a happy girl.

THE END


End file.
